


this sudden silence

by hellbeast



Series: broken string [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Amnesia, Barely Canon Compliant, Gen, Lore - Freeform, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-24
Updated: 2013-05-24
Packaged: 2017-12-12 19:37:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/815241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellbeast/pseuds/hellbeast
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>these are all the things you'll never remember</p><p>(Castiel forgets)</p>
            </blockquote>





	this sudden silence

**Author's Note:**

> EDIT: i've made all once-chapters of broken string into their own separate stories, as parts of one "series" instead of "chapters" of a singular fic

> _When I die, I’m leaving you my feet_
> 
> _When you die, you can stand up for me_
> 
> _We can lie in a homemade canoe_
> 
> _You can put me in your hair_
> 
> _I’ll be happy there_
> 
> \- Wolf Parade, _Fancy Claps_

* * *

Castiel forgets.

* * *

“Cas? _Cas!_ ”

The voice is sudden and startling, and Castiel blinks as his vessel jolts in place.

“Apologies,” it slips out automatically, and he flexes the fingers of his vessel in contemplation. The elder of the Winchesters, Dean, frowns at him. Castiel stares back, perplexed, until the man looks away.

“Are you alright?” the younger Winchester asks. Sam, the one with the dark, demonic blight upon his soul. Only, not quite. Something about Sam is different, something that Castiel can’t quite parse out. Castiel can feel his vessel’s head start to tilt, as it is wont to do when he becomes confused.

“Cas?” Sam speaks up again, when Castiel doesn’t answer.

“Why do you keep calling me that?” Castiel murmurs, frowning. He can’t understand what it is about Sam that is drawing his attention. The brothers exchange incredulous looks.

Dean approaches him the way humans approach frightened animals, his hands open and placating, “Hey, Cas, man. You okay?”

“My vessel is undamaged. Why do you ask?”

He meant the words to be reassuring, but if anything, the brothers look even more worried.

“You seem a little out of it,” Dean supplies after a long moment.

Castiel does not have time for this.

“It’s not of import,” he says dismissively, turning towards the door of the hotel room, “I will return shortly. I have need of Uriel’s opinion.”

He’s gone before the Winchesters’ protests can be made sense of.

* * *

When Castiel takes wing back to the Winchesters’ temporary abode, having been unable to find Uriel, he is greeted with a multitude of sigils and wards.

And a ring of holy fire.

“What are you doing,” he means for the words to be cold and demanding, but he can hear the slivers of fear. He feels no shame, for he is truly afraid. Who but an angel could’ve taught the Winchesters these methods of binding and warding?

“We just wanna talk,” Sam says soothingly, as though Castiel isn’t trapped in a ring of brightly burning fire, as though Dean doesn’t have one palm poised over a banishing sigil.

“You have an odd way of showing it,” Castiel bites off, tensing his entire being to stay within the confines of the fire.

“You said something interesting, earlier,” Dean cuts in, his voice deceptively smooth, “About Uriel.”

“Uriel is my brother, my second in command,” Castiel replies, irritation warring with confusion, “You’ve both met him before. I don’t see your issue.”

“It’s just that–” Sam begins.

“–Uriel’s _dead_ ,” Dean finishes.

A cold terror washes over Castiel.

He can see from the ebb and flow of their souls that both men believe themselves to be speaking the truth, and yet, “You lie.”

The words are ripped from his throat with a harshness he hadn’t known himself to be capable of.

“Uriel’s been dead for years, Cas,” Sam reiterates, the very motion of him screaming condolences.

Castiel reaches out blindly, desperately with his grace. The bonds of camaraderie forged through battle with his garrison, all of them; they’re broken. Annael, Uriel, Balthazar, Carousel, Galiel and countless others.

They are all dead.

“What- What is the meaning of this?” Castiel’s voice breaks, and he has to pause to collect himself lest he burst from the confines of his vessel and injure himself.

“Cas,” Dean begins again, so flatly that Castiel cannot even protest what he now realizes is the shortening of his name, “What’s the last thing you remember?”


End file.
